


THE QUIET

by intergalacticfreckle



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan Angst, Phanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6954700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalacticfreckle/pseuds/intergalacticfreckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'd take the arguments, the difficulties, the overwhelming, soul-suffocating attachment. I'd take it all and more over this. </p>
<p>Anything hurts less than the quiet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	THE QUIET

**Author's Note:**

> -originally posted on wattpad  
> -based on 'the quiet' by troye sivan  
> -angst

Anything. A text, note, a message passed on through a mutual friend. A letter in the stars. A bit of static. Anything but _this._

This crippling, hollow silence that echoes between the cut off wavelengths of our brains.

| _The human mind is fascinating in how it responds to positive feelings of attraction towards another human. Mutual and reciprocated love burns everything in its path, including the barriers around the brain. Not only is there a figurative connection, there is a literal one. A connection of words, of thoughts. But it is fragile, and thrives on utter trust and belief in the other. [From Arthur Reynolds - A Guide To Psychological Alteration.]_ |

**_(i)_ **

"I'll accept no excuses from any of you. I've given you two weeks to complete this assignment, I've offered plenty of support. Put your work in the middle of the tables, I'm going to come and collect it, and pass it out at random."

Dan was bent over his work, so far that his face couldn't even be seen behind his fringe. He didn't want to put it in the middle of the table; he was far too embarrassed by it. They had been told to write about what they thought it would be like to fall in love. Dan had no idea what to write. He'd never been the best at putting his feelings into words, much less feelings he had yet to experience as a sheltered thirteen year old. So he wrote out a load of nonsense that he was ashamed of.

Reluctantly, he sat up straight and added his sheet to the pile in the middle of the table just before Miss Flack arrived in his corner of the room. Dan kept his head relatively low as the teacher placed someone else's work in front of him.

_When you say the phrase 'fall in love' people think of cute couples holding hands along the beach or starlit picnics with proposals of eternal adoration, but the truth is different. I've fallen in love with the way the moon reflects off of the pond at the back of my house, in the middle of the night when the world is asleep but I'm barely yawning. I fell in love with the look on my mum's face when my brother came home so drunk that he could barely walk, and all she did was sigh and help him to bed - until the next morning when the house shook with her yelling. Every day, I fall in love with something new about the world, because there is so much to fall in love with. Every inch of the earth can be magical if you look at it in the right light. You know, when you see something and your face just smiles without you telling it to, because what could be a better thing to look at in that moment? The whole world is under this crazy illusion that you need a person to 'fall in love' with and give your all to. Why focus on something that might not even happen when every single atom in the universe has collided to create a beautiful thing just for you to look at?_

Dan wanted to rewrite his assignment. He wanted to scribble out every stupid word he had written and replace it with a detailed description of how he fell in love with these whispers wound together into letters and sentences. Immediately, he searched for a name, but he found nothing.

He raised his hand. "Miss Flack?" he called, "This work has no name on it."

With a sigh, the teacher headed towards Dan, and took the paper. "Who does this belong to? I told you all to put your names on."

Dan watched eagerly as a few people squinted at the sheet Miss Flack held up before returning, uninterested, to their marking.

"Oh... sorry, I think that might be mine. I put it on the back, bottom corner, it's hard to see. Sorry..." Dan twisted immediately in the direction of the quiet, apologetic voice behind him. He was met with blue: blue that dominated his vision with fierce intensity; not piercing, but soft, twinkling, full of life and hope and love. There was a whole face still to explore, but Dan couldn't find his way out of the blue.

"Well, Philip Lester, please make sure your name is more visible in the future. Time has been wasted here, and time is of the essence."

Miss Flack's voice was pretty much just background noise by now. Dan kept staring and Philip Lester stared back. Dan couldn't even imagine how his face looked right now; he didn't care.

_He had found everything._

_**.** _

"I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do here. I don't know what he wants me to do."

"Never mind him. What do you want to do?"

"I just want him."

| _We all heard the fairy stories our mothers would tell us when we were children. "When you look into the eyes of your soul-mate, a tunnel is created between your minds, and you're connected forever." Beautiful bed time tales, never more than that, right? Wrong. Professionals in psychology have theorised the Invisible and Conceptual Assignment of Soul-mates System - ICASS. This is the so-called theory that each person in the entire world is bound spiritually to another, through love or friendship. It is not guaranteed that the two will ever meet, but it has been reported on uncountable occasions that if they do, they are rewarded with the ability to, so to speak, read each other's minds. [From Piper Reilly - Fairy-tales of Science.]_ |

_**(ii)** _

_I really am getting too tall for this tub_ , Phil thought, his legs crossed at the ankles and his knees hanging over the edges of the bath, one pressed uncomfortably against the tiled wall. He let his head fall back slightly, the water of the shower trickling down his scalp and through his hair. Content, he watched the pitter-patter of droplets landing on his thighs, and traced the crease where his leg met his hip with his fingertip.

_Phil?_

Phil jumped slightly at the sound of his name, glancing around the empty room quickly before realising with a small sigh that the voice came from inside his head.

**_I'm showering, go away._ **

_I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier. About what I said..._

**_Well, I don't want to talk about it, so leave it._ **

A pause.

_Is that what you want?_

**_Yes._ **

Silence.

Relieved, Phil held his breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and threw his head back, letting the full force of the water plummet down onto his face; it clung to his eyelashes and pooled in the corners of his mouth. When his nose started burning, he leaned forward, gasping for air and running his hand over his face to catch the extra water. He then sat, breathing slowly and watching the stream trickle down the drain. He let himself remember, just a little bit, the things Dan had been telling him earlier on.

**We are soul-mates. You know that.**

Phil loved showers. He'd choose them over baths any day; he preferred watching everything disappear down the drain, as opposed to sitting aimlessly in the midst of it.

**But, just, maybe not in the way you're so determined to believe.**

He turned his head to the side, letting the water hit the side of his neck with a sigh. He was only fifteen; how could Dan expect him to know what the hell was going on?

**You've never considered it? Not even a little bit?**

Maybe, if he stayed in here a while longer, he'd dissolve and wash away with the shower water.

**Come on, Phil. I know you better than that.**

But his fingers were pruning up and the real world was waiting for him. So, he clambered up out of the bathtub and switched the shower off. The room fell into silence for a few blissful seconds.

_Think about it, please, Phil?_

Phil leaned against the wall, dripping all over the floor, and took a deep breath in.

_**I will.** _

_**.** _

Sent: 03:43 To: Phil

Can you please answer your phone? You can't hide from me forever. You know that. Just, please?

Seen: 03:54

Sent: 05:01 To: Phil

Child.

Seen: 08:16

| _It was like magic - I looked up and so did she, and everything fell away. The only thing that existed was this pair of wide eyes, staring back at me from the other side of a packed shopping centre. They were unfamiliar, because I'd never seen them before, but it felt like coming home. And then, I heard somebody say "holy crap". I looked away and then all around, before I realised that it was nothing more than a whisper in my head. Testing my theory, I thought, as loud as I knew how: "holy crap yourself." Instantly, I got a reply: "no need to shout." I walked over and introduced myself, and the rest is history. [From Jonah Clark - Recounts of ICASS Meetings]_ |

**_(iii)_ **

The swings had always been Dan's favourite part of any park. According to his mother, his first baby smile happened in one of the strappy child-safe toddler swings, the kind that if he tried to clamber into now, he'd be stuck forever. For years on bonfire night, he'd watched the fireworks from the swings, eating a kebab from the chippy and drinking the tiny cheap bottles of rip-off cola from the corner shop. One birthday, when he was nine or ten, he'd tried to have a party, but no one had showed. He spent the three hours sat on the swings with his new 3DS, playing his troubles away.

And now, here he was, seventeen years old, sitting on the swings - on a date. With a boy. His soul-mate.

Dan had been chatting away all evening, but Phil had been uncharacteristically quiet. Dan couldn't understand why; sure, this was the first proper date they had been on, but they'd been hanging out for four years now, they'd slept at each other's houses and been on holiday together. Why was this really any different?

Phil wasn't listening to anything Dan was saying; he could tell. Dan fell quiet and examined his face. Phil was so lost inside his own head that he didn't notice.

_Hey. What's going on?_

Phil visibly jumped and looked up at last. "What?"

"You're not being you." Dan said gently, searching Phil's face for answers. Phil looked away.

"This is just weird. I don't really like it."

Frowning, Dan slid off the swing and knelt in front of him, catching his hands in his own.

"'This'? What do you mean?"

"This! This whole... date thing."

The two boys sighed in unison, and Dan dropped Phil's hand and reached for his face instead. He let his thumb glide softly across his pasty cheekbone and gripped his other hand a little more tightly.

"I don't get why you don't like it. I tried to make it nice for you," Dan murmured, looking down at Phil's hand in his. Phil shrugged. Both were unsure of what to say next.

Dusk was approaching, so the park was dimly lit and empty. Dan couldn't help but notice how pretty Phil looked in this type of light, all brooding and handsome. He thought he might like to kiss him. Instinctively, he leaned in a little bit to do just that; but Phil pulled away immediately, shaking his head and letting both of Dan's hands fall away.

Dan sat back on his heels, speechless.

"It's too much. I can't handle it," Phil muttered, taking hold of the swing's ropes either side of him.

"But you said-"

"I know what I said!" Phil burst out, the first loud noise he had made since Dan picked him up. He forced himself to lower his voice, "But this isn't us. This isn't how we work. Can't we just be us?"

Dan wanted to argue, but Phil looked so helpless and lost and scared, he couldn't bring himself to. He just nodded silently and stood up, brushing gravel from his legs. He held out his hand to Phil, and then remembered himself and tried to pull it back; but Phil took hold of it wordlessly and stood too.

"I'll walk you home." Dan suggested, trying to make himself sound happier than he was. Phil nodded and made a valiant attempt at a smile.

They walked hand in hand, no words exchanged between them but for a quiet goodbye when they reached Phil's gate. Dan walked on alone, the human epitome of misery.

**_I'll try harder next time._ **

_You shouldn't have to try._

_**.** _

I kick at the gravel and watch it skitter down the path and stop at the front door. I must have stood at this gate a hundred times now, willing myself to open it, walk up to the house, ring the door bell.

I never can.

| _Soul-mate: the very word conjures images of meaningfulness, belonging, unadulterated joy. But not every pair can get their happy ending. There are few that are fated to love each other, but not be together. An unimaginable fate; knowing the existence of the person you are bound to, and being kept apart by something unknown. It's said that some fail to handle the commitment and dedication; and it's said that some are driven away by the lack of privacy. Not to mention the fact that at least half of the population are unlikely to even find their soul-mate. Some say that the very existence of ICASS makes life miserable. People are so blinded by their search that they forget to enjoy the things they have, and they die unsatisfied and alone. [From Astrid Cooper - A Cynics Point of View]_ |

**_(iv)_ **

Phil couldn't remember the last time he saw rain like this.

Maybe it was looking down at Dan's face right now, all betrayed and hurt and disbelieving. Maybe for everyone else, the sun was shining up in a bright blue sky; but for Phil, the rain had hit. Hard.

"Phil, what are you saying? We're supposed to be together. It's meant to be," Dan reasoned, a hint of desperation in his voice. Phil laughed bitterly, and shuffled further away from the window, further away from Dan.

"We're not supposed to be together. We're meant to love each other. They're different things."

Phil watched as the first tears escaped, followed by more, diluting in with the rain that almost muffled the choked sobs.

Almost, but not quite. "Please... you're just scared..." Dan rested his hand against the side of the van, holding himself up to keep from buckling.

Phil nodded, tears filling his own eyes. "You're right. I am scared. I'm scared to be with you, and I'm scared to be without you. And I don't know what to do."

Phil began to sob, letting his head fall forward onto the dashboard.

"Phil... buddy, I'm sorry, but we've got to go..." Chris tapped on the steering wheel and looked sideways at his friend, unsure of how he could help.

Phil nodded and choked back his next cry, lifting his head and his hand to roll the window down. As he reached out his hand, Dan grabbed a hold of it through the window, dripping all over the upholstery. Phil looked at him, really looked at him; his best friend, his soul-mate, face all crumpled and broken.

"You're just gonna run away? From me? From us?"

Phil almost wavered. He almost hopped out of the transit van and joined Dan in the rain. But he couldn't. He didn't know how to stay.

But he didn't know how to leave either.

"I'm sorry. I love you." Phil let go of Dan's hand, rolled the window up, and nodded for Chris to pull away.

When he looked in the rear-view mirror, he could still see Dan standing alone in the pouring rain.

He couldn't turn back. He'd already let go.

**_._ **

I did try. I tried with all my heart to make it work. But it was never enough. I was never enough.

He loved me, he did. He told me as much, and I could tell. But it wasn't enough.

It's never enough.

I'd take the arguments, the difficulties, the overwhelming, soul-suffocating attachment. I'd take it all and more over this.

Anything hurts less than the quiet.


End file.
